


one foot after another

by mearcats



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage, Mild Smut, Romance, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-07-27 23:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16229456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: Putting one foot after another. Loving each other and persevering.It might not be easy for Abby and Luka to get past things, but it's worth it when love, hope, and family are on the line.





	1. easy silence

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, over a decade late to this party, having feelings about Luka and Abby and their love.

Luka knows he has a shift to finish, but he’s tempted to just go get Joe and Abby, say to hell with it, and leave now. They can go somewhere, anywhere, and start fresh.

Instead he smiles and keeps walking, reaching up to where he can still feel the press of Abby’s lips against his. It’s familiar and new at the same time, and it’s  _everything_. Hope rises in his chest. They have forever.

It might not be easy, the getting past it of it all, but they’ll do it together.

He dashes up the steps to work, shaking his head as he passes the spot where he’d punched Moretti earlier that day.

_“You punched him?” Abby is clearly trying not to laugh, but her lips are quivering with the effort. She gives up after a moment, collapsing back into his embrace._

_He buries his nose in her hair, relishing the rightness of holding her again. “You’re not mad?”_

_“God, no. Are you okay?”_

_“I will be,” he tells her, and it’s promise to both of them and their future._

He really should return that call from his friend at Boston University to schedule that interview just as soon as he has a chance to talk to Abby about how she feels about New England.

A few of the residents and caretakers are gathered around the television in the lounge area when he walks in, and Luka joins them. “What’s going on?”

“Explosion down on Michigan, looks like it was an ambulance,” Cressick says.

His heart drops as he watches. “That ambulance is from County, that’s—that’s my wife,” he manages. Abby is on her feet in the background, doing her best to help, but she looks injured.

“You can go if you need to, Dr. Kovac.” His boss’ eyes are understanding, and he nods his thanks.

He rushes to gather his things. His fingers shake as he dials Abby’s cell, his stomach turning leaden as it goes straight to voicemail. He saw her, she was fine, but he  _needs_  to hear her voice.

Luka calls Marnie to let her know about what’s going on, and she agrees to stay with Joe as long as necessary that he can figure out what’s going on with Abby.

It takes repeated attempts and being put on hold, but he finally gets through to Frank. Frank tells him that Abby’s fine, he’ll let her know Luka called, but they’re with Pratt now.

 _Pratt_. God, Pratt hadn’t looked well either from the glimpse he’d gotten, but he’d totally forgotten in his concern for his wife.

Luka closes his eyes and prays for the first time in months, for his friend and for his love, that all will be well.

&&&

Abby leans against the wall, taking a deep breath. It’s been a roller coaster of a day—and that’s an understatement.

Luka. Moretti. Luka. Joe.  _Greg_. Luka.

She had started the day desperate for a way to maybe, possibly hold on to something of her life with Luka, even if the prospects of it were the opposite of promising.  She’d missed his smiles, his jokes, his tenderness...even his moodiness.

She’d felt a flash of hope when she saw he still wore his ring that morning. Maybe they could salvage their marriage after all. So she’d handed him the newspaper—the first anniversary is paper—her heart sinking at how nonplussed he was. So she’d done the only thing she could do and fled.

When Luka had come round to ask her for a walk, she’d been torn between hope and certainty that he was going to tell her they were done. But he’d been quiet and tentative until he started talking, and then he’d been sweet and nostalgic. He’d told her that he wanted to keep on rowing through life together. Then Abby was more than okay, she was ecstatic. They were going to be fine. They were going to get past the shitshow of the preceding year.

Then there’d been the explosion, searing pain, and the intense demands of other people who needed her—including Greg.

It feels disloyal to Neela, but the two of them haven’t connected as much as they used to (Abby is willing to take the blame for that, she knows her spiral back into alcoholism wasn’t easy for any of her loved ones). Other than Janet, Greg has been her truest friend, her support while her life has fallen apart and started piecing itself together again.

 _He owes me coffee. Or maybe I owe him, he was right about Luka and me_ , she thinks with a watery smile.

Her cell phone was crushed in the explosion, so she makes her way to the lounge. She bites her lip as it rings, giving a sigh of relief when Luka picks up.

“Abby?” He’s nearly frantic, and she aches for him.

“I’m okay, Luka.”

She hears his sigh of relief, wants nothing more than to run all the way to him and fling herself into his arms. “Do you need me to come by? Frank told me you were busy, but it looked like you were hurt.”

“At the end of my shift. I—Greg got hurt, and it’s—we’re waiting to see if brain activity picks up, we should know by then. I need to keep working.” Her voice breaks, but she can’t cry, not yet.

“I’ll be there.”

&&&

Luka is waiting for her across the street when she finally leaves. He runs over to the ambulance bay when he sees that Haleh is wheeling her out—she insisted—and drops down beside her, taking in her wrist cast and bandaged ankle.

“I’ll be okay. My wrist is broken, but the ankle’s just sprained.”

Haleh places her hand on Abby’s shoulder and squeezes, nodding at Luka. “Take care of her, okay?”

“I will.”

They’re silent as he wheels her to the car. He opens the passenger door and gently lifts her in, and her eyes well with tears. He reaches for her hand, though it’s awkward with her cast.

“He’s gone, Luka. Greg died, and I just—” she breaks off in a sob.

He pulls over and leans over the center console, his arms coming around her as she weeps. “What happened?”

“Air embolus.”

There’s nothing to say to that, but Abby burrows deeper into his embrace, his palm rubbing circles over her back.

After a few minutes, they pull apart and get back on the road. “Joe?” Abby asks.

“We’re going to go pick him up from Marnie’s, if that’s okay with you.” He glances over at her, seeming genuinely unsure.

“God, yes. I need to hold him, need to know it’s going to be okay.”

Joe is fine, sleepy and undisturbed by the evils of the world as Luka buckles him into his car seat. Luka is the one who struggles when the pull up to the apartment, torn between carrying Joe or Abby up.

Abby smiles. “Take Joe, I can make my way up.” He gives her a look, but agrees, and she hobbles after her boys.

Joe is  _out_ , so other than a kiss on his forehead, she doesn’t want to risk waking him. At least one of them is at peace tonight.

She needs to take a shower. She’s covered with god-knows-what from the explosion and her shift, and she wants to be clean. She wants to sleep, she wants to talk to Luka. She wants and wants and wants, but she can’t do it all, and life is so  _short_ —

“Hey,” Luka’s voice breaks through her rising anxiety. He wipes away one of the tears that had fallen, unnoticed, onto her cheek. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand on your ankle long enough to get a shower? You’ll feel better after that.”

Reaching up to squeeze his hand, she nods. He helps her wrap her cast in plastic and kisses her forehead as she stands and walks past him to the bathroom.

She doesn’t take long. Pulling on her pajamas and combing her fingers through her hair, Abby makes her way back to the bedroom.

Luka is sitting there, on his side of the bed, the side she’s been sleeping in since he moved out in hopes of breathing in any lingering scent of him. He’s still wearing his clothes from earlier, though he’s removed his shoes. His uncertainty is written in the tense line of his shoulders, dissipating only when she reaches for him across the expanse of their bed. “Will you stay?”

His lips quirk up in a smile as he takes her hand. “For better or for worse.”


	2. with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two steps forward, one step back. It's still progress, even if it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing in the angst here! They have a lot of insecurities and issues to address, but I promise they _will_ get there.

Abby wakes to the smell of coffee, shooting pain in her wrist, and a dull ache in her ankle. The previous day’s events come back to her in a rush, and she bolts upright, reaching for Luka. His side of the bed is mussed but empty. Just as she’s about to wonder if the only good thing to come from yesterday’s upheaval was a dream—or worse, a mistake—he comes back into the bedroom, Joe in one arm and a cup of coffee in the other.

He smiles wordlessly as he hands her the coffee and adjusts Joe in his grip, but she can’t resist the joke, “Joe and a cup of joe, huh?”

“Something like that,” he says with a laugh, sitting down beside her, their squirming son babbling happily in his lap.

She hadn’t known that you could feel the pieces of your heart knitting back together until now, but she swears that’s what’s happening. Abby smiles into her mug, leaning her head on Luka’s shoulder.

When he wraps his free arm around her, that last knot in her chest loosens. She exhales a palpable sigh of relief, curling into his side.

“I was going to stay here with you, but this little guy woke up early.”

“Well, my boys bringing me coffee in bed is pretty great too.”

He squeezes her waist before asking, “Do you need to go into work today?”

“Not today, but I think I’m going to call and take some extra time off. I won’t be much good with a broken wrist,” she says.

She can feel him nodding, so she turns her head to meet his eyes. “And we have to talk and work through things.”

Her chest tightens again, even if it’s not as painful as it would have been a day ago. “Yeah. We do.”

He kisses her hair. “But let’s have some breakfast first, eh?”

&&&

Joe is down for his nap. Abby is finishing up her conversation with the ER to confirm her medical leave, and he’s finishing making them lunch. They had breakfast earlier and a busy morning, Abby playing with Joe while Luka ran over to his apartment to get his clothes, toiletries, and computer.

He makes a mental note to call his landlord, provided this talk goes well. He already feels so much lighter being here, the weight of weeks and months of grief, betrayal, and pain beginning to slip away. Nothing is settled, but he knows in his heart of hearts that they’ll be all right.

Luka slides down onto the couch next to Abby as she hums her agreement with the person on the other end of the line. He grabs one of the throw pillows and collapses down, resting his head in her lap. Her eyes soften and she reaches to run her fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter closed at the simple pleasure of her touch, and he leans into her caress.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you at the funeral,” he hears her say. It pulls him out of their stolen interlude, the reality of everything ahead of—and behind—them crashing back. His eyes crack open as she hangs up with a sigh.

“What is it?”

“Well, my next shift—as long as my wrist gets cleared—will be in six weeks, and it’ll be my first shift as an attending.”

He pulls himself up so that he’s seated beside her, reaching for her hand. “A lot can happen in six weeks.”

She squeezes his hand, intertwining their fingers. “Don’t I know it.”

They sit in not-uncomfortable silence until Abby clears her throat. “So what do we do?”

“I have an interview at Boston University about this time next week,” Luka says, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She looks down at the clasped hands, tension creeping into her shoulders.

“Abby? I have a friend there, talked with him about this before yesterday, when we—well, we weren’t sure how to proceed with our marriage. He emailed me earlier today to set up an interview, since the entire hiring committee is available then. It’s only a couple of days, and if you don’t like the idea of Boston—”

He cuts off with a grunt as Abby launches herself into his arms. She presses a lingering, fierce kiss to his lips, and he returns it enthusiastically.

When lack of air starts to become an issue, she pulls back. Forehead pressed against his, she whispers, “I could do Boston. We could do Boston.”

“I just didn’t want you to think you don’t have a say,” he says.

“Go to the interview, and we’ll go from there, okay?”

He brushes his lips across her nose with a smile. “Okay.”

She cups his face and pulls his lips back to hers. It’s slow and tender until it isn’t, Abby deepening the kiss. He shivers, her nails dragging down the skin of his neck as she lowers her hands to tangle in his shirt.

Luka groans when she bites at his lip and begins to trail her lips down his jaw, behind his ear. She rocks in his lap, and his blood rushes south. He’s ready to to explore her body again—it’s been so long—especially now, when she’s found  _that_  place on his neck and is sucking a mark there.

But something in him protests.

He wants her, wants her badly, and she obviously wants him. He hasn’t had sex since that one time they slept together when she came to Croatia, and that was far from loving, gentle, or intimate. God, they’ve been married a year and have only been together a handful of times. So his body reassures him that this is an  _excellent_  course of action, even as something in him hesitates. “Wait. Abby, wait,” he says, stilling her hips.

She stops, brow furrowed as she looks up at him. Her lips are red and swollen, and he wishes more than anything that he could proceed.

“I—I’m not ready. I’m sorry, I just…” He sighs, rubbing his hand across his lips as he trails off.

She draws in a breath, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” Wincing, she continues, “Beyond the obvious, that is.”

Pushing down the pang of guilt—he can’t lie, her infidelity is part of his unease—Luka does his best to reassure her. “I’m not trying to punish you. I want this, but...well, we’ve never struggled with this,” he says, gesturing between them. Sex is easy, it’s just not enough for him anymore. Not with Abby, and she’s the only one he wants.

“I just feel like we’ve lost some of the other intimacy between us. I think we need time to get that back, reestablish trust. I don’t want sex to be the thing holding us together.”

She drops her eyes, cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry.”

He kisses her cheek. “It’s okay, we’ll get there. We have our entire lives, we don’t need to rush.”

Abby nods, pushing herself off his lap and to her feet. Limping over to the island, she turns so that her back is to him. “I don’t know what  _is_  okay, Luka. How do we figure it out?” Her voice breaks, and it tugs at his heart when she reaches up to wipe away an unseen tear.

He makes his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He wishes he could see her face, but maybe it’s best to give her that bit of privacy. Instead he rests his chin on top her head and pulls her closer. “We could talk to someone,” he says, even though the mere idea fills him with dread.

She snorts a laugh. She knows him—no matter the recent distance between them, she knows his feelings on therapy. “Really?”

“For us, anything,” he promises. She slumps into his embrace, and he tightens his hold on her. It’ll be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the chapter titles are my Luby playlist now?
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading and commenting! It means a lot, given how tiny this fandom is.


	3. flaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A therapy session, a funeral, an interview, and a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me watching the chapter lengths grow: oh noooo
> 
> It might be a little longer between updates as the chapter length grows, especially since I'm doing a Luby Christmas story with weekly updates and I'm trying to finish up a Garcy fic too.

They’re able to get in for a last-minute appointment at County with Dr. Nelson. It’s odd, knowing someone as a colleague—not as a friend—and preparing to spill your soul to them. Luka wonders if it’s harder for Abby, given that Dr. Nelson had once graded her. Maybe it’s easier, he’s not sure. But he’d been available and willing to get them in on short notice, so here they are, ready to give this a try.

“I’ve made some notes based on our phone conversation and on the file you sent over, Abby, but I’d like to hear from both of you why you’re here and what you hope to get out of this,” Nelson says.

He can feel Abby’s eyes on him, her neck craned back so she can look up at him. He takes her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

Luka clears his throat. “We got married just over a year ago. And it’s been one of the hardest years. My father—in Croatia—had some health problems, so I left to be with him less than a week after our wedding.”

“And I relapsed and started drinking again while Luka was gone,” Abby cuts in, “and I endangered Joe, myself...and our marriage.”

“You went to rehab, correct?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t undo what I did.” She’s looking at the floor now, though she squeezes his hand. He squeezes back.

Something dark and unpleasant twists in Luka’s stomach. He knows, and he can forgive her, but god does he not want to talk about this and rehash it. If he never hears the words “cheat” or “unfaithful” again, it’ll be too soon. He could also do without hearing the names Kevin or Moretti ever again, too.

Dr. Nelson remains calm. “What did you do, Abby?”

“I...I got blackout drunk, nearly ruined a party, slept with someone else, and then put Joe in the car and drove while I was still drunk.”

“And Luka, you were in Croatia when this happened?”

He takes a deep breath, heart aching as he nods. “I was. I came back about a week after that. Abby told me at Christmas, and then she went into rehab.”

“I told him about the drinking then, not...the rest,” she says, releasing his hand.

“When did you tell him about that?” Nelson asks, head cocked to one side.

Luka wants more than anything to take her into his arms and hold her close, to make up for the all the times he hasn’t been able or willing to do so in the last year, especially when she crosses her arms. “Um, after rehab, when I joined him and Joe in Croatia.”

“We stayed in Croatia for a few more weeks after that, and then we moved back to Chicago. I...I moved out after a few weeks, into a separate apartment,” he says.

“Okay,” Nelson says, “but you’ve both clearly had some progress since then. How did that happen?”

Abby doesn’t take his hand again, but she smiles up at him, a bittersweet thing he wishes he could kiss. “It was a few days ago, the day Greg—Dr. Pratt—died. It was our anniversary. I don’t know—Luka came back, wanted to come back.”

Luka sits there for a moment, trying to process this and what he wants to say to Dr. Nelson. Does Abby truly not realize there was never a time he didn’t want to come back? He’d needed space, but it was—well, he hadn’t taken off his ring, hadn’t even looked into how to get a divorce.

“I wanted to come back, I was just—I don’t know, I was stuck. But M—the person Abby, uh—”

“—the person I cheated on you with. You can say it, Luka.”

He continues without acknowledging that. “He came to see me at my work. He said a lot of things, but he said he could see how much Abby loves me.”

“He’s right, you know,” she says. He’s not sure whether it’s addressed to him or to Nelson, but it warms him either way. Tentatively, he reaches for her hand. He gives an internal sigh of relief when her fingers intertwine with his.

“Did you doubt that she loved you?”

He tightens his hold on Abby, willing her to understand. “Not then, at that moment. There were times—well, when I knew something was wrong but didn’t know what it was. But after she told me, I knew she loved me. I just—I wasn’t sure if it was enough.”

Nelson nods, looking between them. “Okay, sure. What convinced you it  _is_  enough? For you to be here—to have requested to be here, especially—you have to be certain of it being worth it.”

Luka has never been more sure of anything in his entire life. “I had a patient, at the hospice. We got pretty close, as much as I could with anyone in that position. He actually was being transferred out because his health improved, and he was moving in with his nephew.

He was talking about how his nephew would take him canoeing, and how he said, ‘If you row us out, I’ll row us back in.’”

Finally, this breaks through Nelson’s previously imperturbable facade, and he smiles. “And that resonated with you?”

Abby stares up at him, the lines of her face softening as he repeats what Walter told him. “Of course. He—it made me realize, or maybe remember, my vows to Abby at our wedding. I promised her that we would help each other when we needed help, and that I would always choose her and Joe. I haven’t been doing that, but I wanted to be.”

“Abby, do you have anything to add?”

She bites her lip. “I think...I didn’t hold up part of my vows, too. Beyond my infidelity, or maybe that was part of it. I said I wanted us to ‘love each other and persevere.’ But when Luka was gone, I—it felt so hard to persevere and keep going.”

“What about the ‘love’ part of that?”

“I never stopped loving Luka.”

“Luka thought for a while that you might have stopped loving him,” Nelson says, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, “so did you at any point think he didn’t love you?”

“Yes.” She says it flatly, baldly, and it breaks his heart anew. Hadn’t he shown her that he wanted her, always? That his love for her hadn’t gone anywhere, wasn’t going anywhere?

“Why?” Nelson hurries to add, “Oh, and if we’re getting into the hairier and more painful times, I’d like you to both try to use ‘I’ statements. It might make things smoother.”

Abby nods. “I felt like Luka left, when he went to Croatia. It—I—felt like, in some ways, he was happier over there, and that he’d realize we—no, I, because I knew he’d always be there for Joe—weren’t worth coming back for.”

Oh.

Dr. Nelson, however, accepts this calmly. “Has he given you a reason to think that he might feel that way?”

She pauses for a while, seeming to consider her response. “Not...not necessarily. When we broke up the first time we dated, we both said some awful things, and they’ve kind of stuck with me. What I said and what he said. Especially because I haven’t had—didn’t have—a functional relationship after that, not until Luka and I got back together. And then this last year, with us being apart, I had a hard time seeing how it was working.”

Luka lets out a breath. The urge to defend himself wars with his overwhelming desire to scoop Abby into his arms and reassure her, in any way he can, that he adores her and will until his dying day.

“If you don’t mind telling me—both of you—what you said to each other?”

Luka looks at Abby, silently asking if she wants to go ahead. She shrugs at him, and he takes that as tacit permission to continue. “I told her that she wasn’t that pretty or that special. For the record, I was—I was very, very wrong.”

“And I was cruel, Luka, and I’ve never stopped being sorry for it.” Turning back to Nelson, she says, “I told him he was married to a ghost.”

Luka tries to explain. “I was married before, in Croatia. She and our children died in Vukovar. I—it took me a long time to be able to move past it.”

“Well, there are plenty of things we can explore some other time, but I do want to move on to the question of why you’re here and what you want to accomplish.” He stops short, though, and adds, “But let me say this—Abby, someone who doesn’t think you’re special, or worth it—hell, pretty enough, wouldn’t be here. I have notes from before my time in this department in his chart documenting Luka’s dislike for therapy. And Luka, Abby wouldn’t have started a life with you, one that she wants to keep living, if she still thought you were holding onto the past like that.”

He swallows, willing himself not to break. He can do that in front of Abby, but right now, it’s too much.

She seems to see how much he’s struggling, and extracts her hand from his grasp and places it gently on his shoulder. “I want us to be able to move on. I love Luka, and I want us to be able to keep going. I just don’t want us to end up in the same place we have been this last year. I want us to do better.”

“I agree,” he says. “I just want us to be by each other’s side going forward. One foot after another, helping each other as we go.”

&&&

After their session with Dr. Nelson, she feels raw, exposed. Vulnerable.

She’s never done vulnerable well.

At least it’s with Luka, the only person she’s ever trusted to let her  _be_  vulnerable. And therein lies the rub—he’s had her back more than anyone in her life, but what if it isn’t enough? Not for him, not for her.

She needs him by her side. Abby can’t have another year like this last one, where distance brewed uncertainty.

If she has to, if it came down to it, she  _could_  go on without him. Joe is more than enough reason to keep going. The thing is, Luka has her heart, all of it. Sometimes she wonders when it began, this fierce need. She knew she loved him when Chuny told her that he was dead in the Congo; it was beyond the shadow of a doubt by the time she said the words, when Joe was born.

 _I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart._  But she doesn’t want to be stars’ distances from Luka.

She looks across the grave where Bettina stands next to Chaz, letting him support her as the casket is lowered into the ground. It hurts, the knowledge that a brilliant future is gone. Not just Greg’s, but the future he was building with Bettina, with his family.

Abby tucks her arm into Luka’s. He’s here right now, and that’s all she can ask.

He surprises her, extracting her hand from his elbow, but the loss of contact is temporary. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She wraps her arms around his waist, his smile bolstering her even though she feels the same ache of loss that she sees in his eyes.

After the funeral is over, they head out, hand-in-hand, with everyone else from County. Luka has a flight to catch, but they stop to chat with Chuny and then Morris. Morris talks her into coming into County to check on her ankle, though they’re still letting her wrist heal, so she heads toward the cars waiting for them.

Luka pulls her aside to say goodbye. “I’ll call you when I get in.”

“Good. Joe will want to say good night, too.”

“What about you?”

“Always,” she says, standing on her toes and to kiss him. They keep it brief, mindful of their surroundings, but Abby tugs on his jacket before he has a chance to turn away. “And let me know how the interview goes, too.”

“Of course,” he says, brushing his lips across her forehead a final time. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Later, once she’s talked to Haleh and made plans to help set up for the wake at Ike Ryan’s, she heads up to Janet’s office.

Janet smiles and reaches to hug her, “Hey, stranger.”

“Not so strange, I hope.”

“I was thinking about you, with Pratt’s funeral. I know things have been busy, but I wanted to follow up, since the last time I saw you was right after the explosion.”

Abby smiles back at her as they sit down. “Luka came back. We—we’re working on things.”

“Oh, good, I’m so happy for you!” Janet exclaims. “You told me you talked, but it was before Greg died.”

“This is going to sound wrong, but in some ways, Greg’s death clarified things.”

Janet nods. “I know what you mean. There’s a certain urgency to life and living, after something like that.”

“I just...I don’t want to waste time. And neither does Luka, it seems. We’ve even been to therapy to talk about how to move forward.”

“Good. Love is great, but alas, not all you need, so I’m glad you’re talking to someone together.”

“Me too.” Abby isn’t sure why she’s hesitating to tell Janet about Boston. Maybe talking about it makes it real, and she’s not sure she’s ready yet.

Janet seems to pick up on something being unsaid. “What else is going on? Come on, talk to me. Have you had the urge to drink?”

“No! No, that’s not it. It’s—it’s the moving forward thing. Luka has a job interview in Boston, and we’ve talked about moving.”

“Wow, big decision. Leaving Chicago?”

Abby takes a deep breath. “Yeah. We kind of want a fresh start.”

“It’s not wrong to need or want that, Abby.”

“I know. It’s just now, with Greg gone, I’m realizing what a great support system we have here. We won’t have that elsewhere, and if something happened…”

“Abby,” Janet interrupts, “something  _did_  happen. All of last year. And while Greg was supportive, he’s gone. I was there, but I promise, I’ll just be a phone call away whenever you need me, wherever you are.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Janet?” she half-jokes.

She reaches across the desk for Abby’s hands. “Of course not. I’m just trying to let you know that while, yes, you do have friends here, you also have the support you’ve really wanted back. And that’s Luka. I’ll support you no matter what you decide, but I also don’t want you to let fear of the unknown hold you back.”

Abby thinks about what Janet said over the course of the next day. She doesn’t dwell on it, but as she eats breakfast, works on an article she’s trying to publish, takes Joe to the park, and loads the dishes into the dishwasher, it's not far from her mind.

She’s lost in thought when her phone rings, and she starts before fumbling to answer it. It’s Luka, and she smiles at the sight of his name on the little screen.

“Hey, handsome.”

She relishes his chuckle. “Hello to you too, beautiful.”

“How was today? You had the second interview and you taught a class, right?”

“I did.” Even without being able to see him, she could tell he was smiling.

She settles into the couch and pulls one of the pillows onto her lap. “I take it it went well.”

“Yeah. Abby, they offered me the position.”

“That’s wonderful! What all would it entail, if you took it? I mean your responsibilities and schedule, all that.”

“Well, it’s a tenured position, so I’d have to have a review at the end of the year—”

“—does that mean no more taking off for war zones with minimal warning?” she interrupts, hoping she’s infused enough humor to take away the edge from the question.

He snorts, and she gives a sigh of relief. “No more war zones, I promise. Not unless I can convince you to come with me.”

“It’s not really my thing, Luka.”

“I know. So it probably won’t happen. I just—I miss you, and I’ve only been gone less than two days. I don’t want to think about being apart for a longer amount of time.”

Well. If that doesn’t remove all kinds of stings, she doesn’t know what does. “I miss you too. I can’t wait for you to get back.”

“How about you fly out to see me? We can look at apartments, and I could introduce you to some of the faculty here.”

“So you want this job, huh?”

There’s a pause where she just knows he’s nodding at her. “Yes. It’s—it’s good. The pay isn’t as much as I was making when I was Chief of the ER, but there are good benefits. I’d mostly be teaching classes, though there will also be shifts in the Medical Center.”

Abby smiles; it sounds perfect for him. “That sounds great.”

“I love emergency medicine, but this way I have a more reliable schedule and can spend more time with you and Joe, especially since you’ll have no trouble getting a job as an attending.”

“Even if I stick with emergency medicine?”

“Abby, you’re one of the most talented physicians I know, and everyone you work with respects you. You’ll find something great. And you—well, you don’t have to work, if it’s about the money. We’d get by fine with just me. I just know you love what you do, and you’ve worked so hard to get there.”

She picks up the compass from the middle of the coffee table where Luka had left it before leaving for his interview. “Yeah.”

They’re both quiet for long enough that he asks, “Still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking. Let me see if Marnie doesn’t mind taking Joe overnight, and I’ll join you in Boston.”

“I can’t wait.”


	4. alone, until i get home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby meets up with Luka in Boston, and their issues come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves for what I think will be the angstiest chapter in this fic! Also note that I'm bumping the rating to M, as there is some mild smut (and there probably will be more) and the language/discussions they're having may well merit it too.

For the second time in less than six months, Abby heads out of baggage claim to find her husband waiting for her.

While certain elements remain the same—she still feels butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him, and she still throws herself into his arms—she’s grateful that some things have changed. For starters, Luka is unabashedly thrilled to see her, if his smile and lingering kiss mean anything.

“Whoa, public venue,” she says, unable to keep from grinning back at him.

He shrugs, still beaming down at her. “People can think what they want, I don’t care. But I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you.”

He takes her bag from her and shoulders it. He leads her outside to a taxi, reaching for her hand with his free one.

They’ve just made it outside the airport when Abby asks, “So where are we going?”

“I thought we could look at a couple of apartments. There’s one in Cambridge and one on the South End that I made appointments for today, and tomorrow morning there’s one in Bay Village.”

“Are we thinking buying or renting? I’m not sure what we can afford right now.”

Luka nods. “We do still have some savings, Abby, and we can either sell or rent our place in Chicago. I promise, none of these places are beyond our means. I just thought we might rent for a while, until we get a chance to really figure out where in the city we want to be.”

She smiles at him. “Makes sense. I’m sure all three will be fine.”

“Well, we can only choose one. Our savings aren’t  _that_  great,” he teases.

“Oh, fine,” she says with a giggle.

Just a few minutes later, they pull up to the first one, a South End apartment building. The realtor meets them at the doorway, and they head up to see it. It’s lovely, in that modern refurbished factory way that reminds her of their place in Chicago. Luka doesn’t seem as impressed, which surprises her.

Abby elbows him. “It looks enough like our place in Chicago that it practically could be it.”

“I don’t know, maybe we want something different,” he says, biting his lip.

Huh, he wants that much of a fresh start. Well, she can work with that. She doesn’t need to transplant their old apartment here, when they can make new memories in a new setting.

Pulling him down within reach, she kisses his cheek. She turns to the realtor and says, “Thank you. We’ll be in touch if we decide to take this place.”

Realtor lady sniffs and assures them this place won’t be on the market long. Abby exchanges a furtive look with Luka and fights back a smile. It is nice, but it’s not for them, not now.

The next place in Cambridge is actually a house and much more suitable. She doesn’t love it, but it would work for them if nothing else works out. When they’re done there, they head to dinner.

Luka takes her to dinner at that Harvard Square mainstay and icon Casablanca afterward. It’s...not her style, but it’s fun and they have a nice dinner. They had—have?—so few opportunities for nights out without Joe that it’s sweet, romantic even, with the dim lights and Luka staring at her adoringly. She’s tired from traveling, but this is a balm for her soul.

She’s very glad when they make it back to their hotel. Luka sets down her bag, and she puts her purse down on the desk. Time slows to a halt as they stare at each other, the negligible distance between them suddenly too much to bear.

Abby launches herself into his embrace, his arms coming around her as she wraps her legs around his waist. He eagerly returns her kiss, walking backward until his knees bang against the bed and they fall back onto it.

Luka’s “ooph” as she crashes down on top of him doesn’t do much to derail her. Or him, for that matter, if the way he immediately presses his lips back to hers and slides his hands under her shirt is any indication.

She’s definitely okay with this. More than, really. She sits up and yanks off her jacket and her shirt. Luka’s gasp and hoarse whispering of her name is gratifying, but it’s nothing on the way he grips her hips and flips them over.

The memory of all the times he’s pulled that on her—the night they decided to get back together after Neela’s wedding wasn’t the first time, but it forever cemented that as his  _move_  for her—leaves her arching up against him, breathless with desire.

He obviously feels the same way, his growl not the only solid evidence that he wants her. She can feel him against her through the layers of their clothes, and she very much desires to remove those barriers.

She tugs at his shirt, breaking away from him only long enough for him to pull it off. It’s mere seconds, but it’s too much, and as soon as he sinks back between her legs, she reaches for him.

“Abby, wait,” he manages, pushing himself up on his elbows.

She lets go of him immediately, but asks, “What? Why?”

Luka hesitates, running a hand through his hair as he flops over onto his side next to her. “I just...I don’t think we’re ready yet. I’m not, at least,” he says. He reaches toward her, hand hovering over hers for a moment before he pulls back.

“Oh,” she says in a small voice. She bites her lip, hoping the pain will stave off the tears pricking at her eyes. She turns onto her side, facing away from him. “Okay.”

They’re quiet for a moment, until he breaks the silence with a tentative, “Abby—”

“I’m going to get a shower. Um, get the grime off after traveling,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. She avoids his gaze as she all but runs into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leans her forehead against it and lets the tears fall.

She unhooks her bra and kicks off her shoes, stumbling out of her pants and underwear. She adjusts the water temperature and steps into the spray of the shower.

Abby tries to stay quiet as she sobs, wishing for the world she didn’t feel like she was in very nearly the same place she’d been over seven years ago.

Does Luka ever feel the way she does sometimes, that no matter how many times she showers, she’ll never be clean of the shame of her choices? Some part of him still wants her, but he’s keeping her at a distance...and it hurts.

It hurts, and she wishes it didn’t. She’s not going to force the issue, obviously, and will step back if that’s what he wants. She shrinks into herself, hating that she threw herself at him after he talked about wanting to take things slower.

She loves Luka so much she aches. She just isn’t sure how he wants her to show that anymore. Oh god, what if he doesn’t want her to? Is part of him holding back, trying to push himself—push them, all of them—forward for Joe’s sake?

She’s about to launch into a fresh bout of hysterics when she sternly tells herself to pull it together. She can’t hide in here all night, and at some point they will have to talk about things.

Abby sighs, realizing in her hurry to get out of the room earlier, she didn’t bring her pajamas. Turning off the water she steps out onto the mat and dries herself off, wiping the towel around herself and steeling herself.

Her worrying seems to have been for naught, as Luka appears to be asleep and to have turned off all the lights but the one closest to the bathroom. Well, at least  _one_  of them will be sleeping tonight.

She grabs her pajamas and retreats to the bathroom to put them on, glimpsing her reflection in the mirror on the way in. She grimaces at how red her eyes are and how blotchy she is, but there’s not much she can do about it now.  _There_ , she thinks, turning off the light,  _it’ll be too dark to tell anyway. Not that Luka would notice, what with being asleep._

Making her way to the far side of the bed, she crawls under the covers. She does her best to stay as close to the edge as she can, still faced from Luka. She can’t look at him right now; she doesn’t trust herself not to start crying again.

Abby’s ready to start counting sheep or repeating old medical mnemonics when Luka’s hand creeps over her hip. It’s tentative, hesitant, and his palm rests there lightly. She stills and sucks in a breath as his thumb brushes across the skin bared between her tank top and sleep pants.

Behind her, the bedding rustles as Luka inches closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Apparently, he hasn’t been sleeping—his voice is thick with emotion, not sleep.

“Me too,” she whispers in return, sinking back into the warmth of his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulls her fully into his embrace, tucking her head under his chin.

She considers it—maybe it would be easier this way, not looking at each other, in the dark. But in spite of herself, she doesn’t think that’s the right way. “Yes, but not right now, Luka. It’s late, and we need to sleep.”

“But we will talk?”

She squeezes his hand tucked just under her breasts. “We will,” she says, hating how hoarse she is.

They fall silent after that, and eventually Abby drifts off into uneasy sleep.

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s to Luka holding out a cup of coffee to her. She takes it with a weak smile of thanks and looks him over, taking in his freshly washed hair and one of the sweaters she bought him a couple years ago. If the bags under his eyes are any indication, he didn’t sleep well either.

“So what’s the plan for the day?” Their flight leaves just before six, but that leaves plenty of time for them to do something after they look at the last property. There’s an unspoken understanding that they won’t talk about last night until they get back to Chicago—they have too much to say, and they don’t have the privacy they need to sort everything out right now. Checkout is at noon, after all, and they have an appointment before then.

Luka looks away from her, and dread sinks in the pit of her stomach. “I—well, I made another plan for after, but it now occurs to me you might not be happy about it.”

That’s...ominous. “Oh?”

“I got you an interview at BU too, for after our appointment at the next apartment. It’s a teaching position also, though you’d have to apply for tenure in a couple years.”

Abby closes her eyes, trying to process this. It doesn’t take long. “Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me, Luka?”

He winces. “I thought it would be a good thing to do. I know you want to keep working, and I’m sure they’ll hire you.”

“I just...why did you think that was okay?! I don’t need you...steamrolling me and making these choices and decisions for me. I can get a job on my own! This may be hard for you to believe, but I was offered other jobs than the one at County.” She flings the covers back and stomps over to her bag. She takes her clothes out and pulls them on, back still toward Luka, uncaring about whether he’s watching. There’s nothing remotely sexy or tempting about this anyway.

“Abby,” he says on a sigh, “I thought this was something that would make you happy.”

That takes some of the wind out of her sails, though she’s still miffed that he tried to arrange their lives without her input...again. She counts to ten in her head before responding, “I appreciate that you thought that, but you need to let me make have some say in these big life decisions.”

He appears to be on the verge of responding with something truly offensive, if she’s properly interpreting that hard look on his face that she’s only seen during the worst of their arguments over the years. She must preemptively shrink back and tense, because he looks at her—truly looks at her—and deflates. “I’m sorry. I just—well, do you want me to call them and cancel the interview?”

This gives her pause. She has no desire to go to this interview—she’s unprepared in every way, and she’s fairly sure she doesn’t want to teach, at least not in a classroom—but Luka has clearly gone out on a limb and tried to do this for her. Misguided as he is, he’s trying. It’s a brand-new job for him, and she doesn’t want to make things awkward for him before he even starts. Abby sighs. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go. What time is the interview? And is what I’m wearing okay?”

His shoulders slump with relief. “It’s at one. And your outfit is fine, but if you’re worried we can stop somewhere after we look at this next house.”

“Okay.”

This having been as sorted out as it can be until later, they hurry to finish getting ready and check out of the hotel.

It’s a short ten-minute ride from the hotel to the little rowhouse in Bay Village they’re viewing. In spite of herself and everything going on, Abby’s charmed. It’s not large, but it’s enough for the three of them. It has character without being stuck in the past, and as uncertain as things are right now, this is a place she can see them in.

They take an application, Luka noticing how much she prefers this place to the others. It might not be their forever home, but it could be a good start to their new life.

After they’re done at the house, they grab a quick bite to eat before stopping to buy Abby a new shirt for her interview. The interview goes well; she can tell they like her, and it wouldn’t be the worst thing to work there with Luka. That’s one of the things she’s missed most since he left County, if she’s being honest with herself.

She just wishes she could be that enthusiastic about the job itself.

After the interview, they head to Logan Airport. They have time to putz around, and they buy a couple of things for Joe and a thank you gift for Marnie. Because they bought their tickets separately, their seats aren’t anywhere near each other’s, but they manage to switch with a very nice college student.

Luka reaches for her hand as they take off, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Leaning across the armrest, Abby kisses his cheek, squeezing his hand. 

God, they’re a mess, but she can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

&&&

It’s not easy, but Luka knows that with as fraught as things are at present that they need help. He manages to talk Nelson into pencilling them in the day after they get back from Boston.

He and Abby need to talk, need to clear the air, but by tacit agreement, they don’t do so without a third party present. They both obviously have a lot to air—not grievances, necessarily, but issues and feelings.

He genuinely isn’t sure what to do. He’s aware he hurt her—her behavior in Boston couldn’t have been more clear, and she’s been awkward and hesitant about letting him hold her since then.

He needs help.

Luka snorts, recognizing that as the first step in AA. He’s not been as involved in Abby’s recovery as he should have been, but he knows that much. But yes, he—they—need help.

He has faith that they’ll get past their difficulties, he does. At the same time, he’ll freely admit that the bravest thing he’s ever seen Abby do is tell him she needed help. And if he can’t be inspired by his wife’s example, what is he doing?

He just hates that it’s so terrifying.

Dr. Nelson gestures for them to take the same places on the couch they did last time.

“Thanks for fitting us in to your schedule,” Abby says. Luka nods to second this.

Nelson waves his hand. “No problem, it seemed urgent.”

“We had an argument—or arguments, really. And we’re having trouble talking about it. I—I don’t want to hurt Abby, but I’m afraid whatever I say or do will hurt her.”

Abby finally looks at him for the first time that day, and some of the tension melts from her. “And I feel like he’s not telling me things,” she says, recounting the interview debacle. “I just...I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, and I don’t know how to move forward if we can’t talk about things.”

Luka shrugs. “I was willing to talk after our argument the other night. You’re the one who wanted to wait.”

“Because it was late, you were tired, and I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally! I wasn’t sure if I could handle what you were going to say, Luka.”

“How did you know what I was going to say?” He scoffs, raising an eyebrow at her.

Abby takes a deep breath. “I didn’t—or don’t, whatever—but our last few ‘talks’ haven’t gone very well for me, so I was scared.”

His irritation fades. “Hey, I’m here. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Isn’t there?” she asks, and he sees a look on her face he doesn’t recognize. Normally he can tell her mood, but this...he doesn’t understand.

Dr. Nelson has been quiet so far, but now he clears his throat. “Okay, Abby. Why don’t you tell me a little more what you’re afraid of? It doesn’t sound like it’s just about the interview.”

She bites her lip before continuing. “I don’t really know where to start, so I might ramble.”

Luka reaches for her hand. He misses her rambling. Abby squeezes his hand for just a moment before letting go, though she seems content to leave his hand on her thigh. He needs this tangible connection with her.

“That’s okay,” Nelson says.

“Um, since we’ve been back together, Luka and I haven’t slept together. Had sex, that is. We share a bed and everything, just...not that. He told me he wants to wait, and I understand his reasons—we used to not talk and sleep together instead to avoid it—but right now it’s like we’re not talking  _and_  not having sex.”

“And it’s significant to you that you’re not having sex?”

Abby is red, and Luka is sure he is too. Nelson doesn’t seem ruffled, but talking about something so private makes Luka want to sink into the floor. “Well, yes. I cheated on Luka and slept with someone else. I—it feels like it’s tainted me, and Luka doesn’t want me anymore.”

He’s ready to object; how could she not tell he wants her? He thought that had been fairly clear the other night. Dr. Nelson seems to see his agitation, and holds up a hand.

“Just a minute, Luka. Let’s let Abby continue. Abby, is there a specific incident that’s made you feel this way, or is this based on your conversations?”

“Oh, um. I’ve initiated things twice, once right after Luka came back a couple weeks ago. That’s when we had the talk about waiting. Then when we were in Boston, I—I guess I got carried away, because we had a nice, romantic evening out and Joe wasn’t there, so I, uh, started something.”

“And Luka put the brakes on that.”

“Yes.”

“Pardon the cliche, but how did that make you feel?”

Abby pulls away from him, and he lets his hand slide from her thigh to the couch. “Not great, that’s for sure. I know he wants to wait, so on one hand I feel guilty for putting the moves on my own husband, but on the other...I feel like garbage. It’s like he doesn’t want me, at least not that part of me anymore, after what I did.” She turns toward him, and he can see she’s close to tears. “Am I repulsive to you now?”

Not for the first time in his life, Luka realizes how poorly he’s handled things. “Abby, no! I want you  _so_  much, what happened doesn’t change that. I just want us to be able to have sex for the right reasons.”

“And what are those reasons, Luka? Because I just—I don’t know anymore. You haven’t told me you loved me once since we decided to work things out. I can’t give you more children, so that’s not it. Is...is it all just for Joe, so he can have a family?”

He’s stunned speechless, even as his heart breaks anew. His mouth opens, and he reaches for both her hands, still unsure what to say or how to proceed.

Dr. Nelson looks between them and gives them a small smile, and Luka wishes he could feel that same amusement or contentment right now.

“Abby, Luka, what do you want from each other?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I Hope you enjoyed, and if you did, comment/review, I love that.
> 
> I _think_ there will be 4 more chapters after this, though there might be an epilogue too. 
> 
> This is also the first chapter that isn't a song title, though it's a line from a song instead!


	5. somewhere love remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A question is answered, and Abby and Luka find a home (or maybe they just rediscover it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in getting this out! Words are hard sometimes.

_"What do you want from each other?”_  Nelson’s words echo in Luka’s mind as he drives them home. They still have some time to hash things out before Marnie comes back with Joe, but he knows there’s something he needs to say.

They park. As they walk up to their building, Luka reaches for Abby’s hand and gives a silent prayer of thanks when she takes it.

He can see her trepidation in the furrow of her brow and the way her lips tighten as he leads her over to the couch and kneels in front of her. Taking a deep breath, he envelops both her hands in his.

“I want you. I want us to be partners, lovers, friends. But mostly, I just want you. I love you, Abby, and I’ll do whatever it takes to show you that every day.”

Her eyes well up. She doesn’t respond, and for a moment Luka fears he’s done or said something wrong (again). Then she launches herself off the couch and into his arms. “I love you too. And all the rest of it...I want that too.”

He sighs with relief, pulling her more fully onto his lap as they hold each other. He buries his head in her neck, relishing the comfort of her familiar scent and the softness of her skin. His heart is too full for words, and hers apparently is too, because they say nothing aloud for a long while.

It’s not until his legs are falling asleep that he shifts her to his side, though she stays tucked under his arm.

Abby picks up his other hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “I—I meant it, what I said about how I love you more than I could ever say.”

“That’s how I feel too. I know I need to get better about saying it and showing you.”

She nods. “You’re not the only one. We both need to work on talking about things instead of keeping them in.”

“Sometimes I worry, you know? That I might say something that will hurt you.”

“Luka…” She trails off, considering for a moment. “I can understand why you’d be worried and that I—I might start drinking again.”

He pulls her closer.

“But the thing is, even when you moved out and I thought you were probably leaving me, I was determined not to drink. Joe is reason enough. And I don’t know, maybe it was a way of making it up to you, even if you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I always wanted you, Abby, even when I was away. I was an idiot, but I wanted you,” he says.

“I started drinking when I had a hard time reaching you and we  _weren’t_  talking, so…”

“So talking is a good thing?” Luka asks with a smile, brushing his lips across her forehead.

She laughs. “That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.” After a beat, she adds, “In all seriousness, I know we can’t solve every problem or issue we have individually or as a couple all in one day. But I want to keep trying with you. I know we’ll have more arguments, but...”

“It’s worth it, though. I—we have more love, too.”

“And sometimes you even laugh at my dumb jokes.”

His chest shakes. “Always.”

Abby turns in his arms to face him, cupping his cheek in her hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming back. For loving me and wanting to keep trying. For Joe and our life. Just...for being you and being here.”

He swallows the unexpected lump in his throat. “I should be thanking you. You take me back with open arms and are so patient with me, Abby. I-I love you, and I can’t wait to keep living our lives together.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asks. It dawns on her that she’s asked a question that might contain another question, and she hurries to assure him, “I don’t mean waiting with sex, I mean—”

“I think I know what you mean,” he interrupts. “I did want to wait for the reasons I talked about, but I didn’t know it was hurting you so much and that you thought I didn’t want you.”

She pulls him into her arms. “It’s okay, Luka.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore for the rest of our lives, or for making love again.”

“I mean, I’m not ready to go this instant, but maybe later after Joe’s asleep, we can make that happen.”

He can’t help it—he laughs. “Let me make it a little romantic.”

She giggles. “Are you saying that I’m making it unromantic?”

“No, but I was implying it.” He hesitates and then continues, “I—if it’s okay with you, I want to explain why I was so—well, why I wanted to wait.”

“Of course, but you don’t need to do it right now. We can wait to talk about it if it’s too much.”

“No, I need to say it now. As long as you can bear with me as I try to say it.”

“Like you said, always.”

He takes a deep, fortifying breath. “I—it was about me, not you. I know you love me, and I know you wanted me back. As soon as you told me about the drinking and then Moretti, I understood why you were holding back. It just—it hurt.

I think was worried that you wanted me for reasons that, well, that other women have in the past. The sex has always been good between us, and Sam and Nicole both wanted the stability I could give them too.”

Abby looks stunned. Then a sad smile turns the corner of her lips. “Oh, Luka. I’m so sorry.”

“I mean I know—with my brain at least—that’s not true, but—”

“But insecurity is a bitch and doesn’t listen to reason most of the time,” she says.

“Yes.”

She sits beside him again and takes his hand. “Luka, don’t take this the wrong way, but our life together has been the opposite of stable in some ways.”

He lets out a snort of surprised laughter. “What?”

“No, I mean, we’re there for each other and we have been, and are working on making something even better, and I never feel better or more comfortable with anyone else—I wouldn’t want anyone else—but you have to admit that the last few years have been  _insane_.”

“Oh,” he says, relieved. Then he smiles. “You mean most people don’t do like us and get pregnant immediately, have multiple near-death encounters, and nearly lose each other to our own demons?”

She kisses his cheek. “Something like that.”

“I was worried after Boston, when you couldn’t tell me how you felt. I just—it reminded me of when you couldn’t tell me about Moretti.”

Burying her head in his chest, she says, “So you were afraid there was something else wrong.”

“Yeah.” He rests his chin on top of her head, a weight falling from him.

“I’m sorry I had you so worried.”

He pulls back from her and tilts her chin up. Luka kisses her, pouring all his vulnerability, love for her, and relief that they’re here together into it. “And I’m sorry I failed you, and I promise I’ll keep trying to do better.”

&&&

“I do have a confession to make,” Abby says, slipping her arms around Luka’s waist and smiling into his back.

He’s washing the dishes—they’d ordered Thai and had it delivered, given both of them had been emotionally drained (if happy) after all the day’s revelations and talking. Joe is chattering cheerfully from his booster seat at the table, and it’s a pleasant scene she’ll never be over.

“Oh?” He doesn’t sound worried, just curious.

“I should have told you, but I found out when I was mad at you earlier today. Sorry, not very mature of me, but—”

“Abby…”

She stops rambing and gives in to his pleading tone. “I have an interview at MassGen. I applied after we talked about it, and I’ve had a phone interview that went well, so they want to meet me in person.”

Luka turns around in her embrace and wraps his arms around her, wet hands and all. “That’s wonderful. When?”

“The day after tomorrow,” she says with a wince. “I know we just got back, but I’ll have to fly back out. Unless you need me to try to reschedule?”

“No, definitely go. I’ll be fine here with Joe. When do you need to leave?”

“I was thinking about flying out tomorrow afternoon or evening, and I could be back the following night.”

“Works for me. What about you, Joe?” he asks in that (ridiculously adorable) voice he uses with their son.

Joe nods enthusiastically. “Yeah!”

(He’s a little behind on speech—which perhaps isn’t shocking, given hers and Luka’s history with that—but has firmly mastered every version of “yes,” “no,” “mama,” and “daddy,” in English and Croatian.)

Abby smiles. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go buy a ticket.” She slips out of his arms, but pauses at the end of the kitchen island. “I could also submit the application for one of the places we looked at.”

He beams back at her. “The little rowhouse?”

“If you’re okay with it.”

“I liked it, and I know it was your favorite.”

She all but runs back to the kitchen to kiss Luka senseless. “Thank you. And I’ll submit an application for the one in Cambridge too, in case the rowhouse doesn’t work out.”

 

However, to her relief and glee, it does work out. The house’s owners are happy to see her back, especially since she goes ahead and pays the first and last month’s rent and the deposit immediately.

Before she goes to bed, she calls Luka and Joe. Joe’s a little fussy, but he calms down when Abby sings to him. He’s moved on from The Clash, but she’s not sure that The Wiggles are an improvement.

Luka takes the phone again, and she can hear him kissing Joe and bidding him good night before heading downstairs. “So you had a good evening?”

“Yeah! After I left the house—our house now, I guess—I grabbed a bite to eat and then came back to the hotel.”

“Same one we stayed at?”

She smiles. “Yes, but it’s not the same being here by myself.”

“A little lonely, are you?” His voice deepens the way it does when he flirts with her, and she clenches her thighs.

“Mmm. If only there were a tall, dark-haired man with mysterious eyes and a cute accent here.”

“That’s very specific.’

“Very.”

Luka sighs. “As much as I’d like to continue this, given our track record, perhaps we should wait until you’re back home and we can do this in person.”

Abby snorts. When Luka had first gone to Croatia, they had tried the phone sex thing a couple of times, but one time the connection kept cutting out and the other they’d been interrupted by someone knocking on the door on his end. They hadn’t tried after that. “It’s probably for the best,” she agrees.

“But I  _will_  see you tomorrow night. And good luck with your interview tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” she says, pausing for a moment before adding, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responds without hesitating.

 

Abby’s interview goes well, and MassGen promises to be in touch within a few days. She’s pretty confident about it, which sends her back to Chicago in a good mood.

She takes the train from O’Hare to their apartment. Luka is putting Joe down for the night, so he can’t make it to pick her up, but she doesn’t mind. She quietly unlocks the door and slips in. It’s quiet, so she heads up to peek in on Joe. Upon finding him asleep, she heads downstairs to find Luka.

Upon walking into their bedroom, she gasps. Nearly every flat surface is covered with lit candles, and the soft strains of instrumental music echo from the little speakers they have in here. There are even fresh bouquets of roses—no more sad, dead, and dark flowers for her—on their nightstands. Luka really did try to make it romantic.

And there he is, the man himself, lying in the middle of their bed, fast asleep.

Abby giggles to herself—she can tell he’s shirtless, and she’s pretty sure he’s completely naked under that sheet.

As he lets out a quiet snore, she goes around the room extinguishing the candles. After turning off the music, she heads into the bathroom for a quick shower. She doesn’t bother putting on pajamas once she’s done, wanting to feel Luka’s skin against hers.

He finally stirs as she slips under the covers with him. “Abby? I fell asleep.”

He sounds adorably confused, and she can’t stop herself from brushing her lips across his. “And it was adorable. Oh, you  _are_  naked.”

“You blew out all the candles. And I was trying to make it romantic for you.”

“I like the way you think, Luka, but honestly, I’m happy to be here just like this, like we are right now. And frankly, the candles were a fire hazard. A pretty one, but still dangerous.”

He pauses, then a smile pulls at his lips. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulls her on top of him.

“I’m glad to be back too,” she says, before leaning in to kiss him properly.

He reciprocates eagerly, reaching up to tange his fingers in her hair. She gasps when he lightly tugs at her hair as he deepens the kiss.

Then she finds it hard to think much at all, his hands and mouth worshipping her. It’s more than pleasure—though there’s certainly plenty of that.

It’s a sigh of relief, it’s coming home after a long journey, it’s knowing and being known by the person Abby loves most in the entire world.

As Luka moves inside her, as they move together, Abby whispers a prayer of thanks to whatever deity or force for good in this world brought them back to each other.

And they didn’t even need a compass.


End file.
